


Sap

by Jess4400



Series: When We Were Young [1]
Category: Frozen (Disney Movies)
Genre: Child Kristoff, Fluff, Gen, Mother-Son Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:47:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22637023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jess4400/pseuds/Jess4400
Summary: It was always Kristoff and Sven, until it wasn't.Kristoff knew how to handle himself.
Relationships: Bulda & Kristoff (Disney)
Series: When We Were Young [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1628422
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	Sap

Kristoff knew he wanted a little sibling from a young age. In some families, based on what he had read in hoarded storybooks the trolls found, the youngest sibling often got special treatment. It seemed fair, on the surface, that the baby needed to be protected. It could not fend for itself, after all. However, the concept would always leave a bitter taste on his tongue when he closed the worn book and thought about his own life.

In his family of rock trolls, _he_ was the baby. Sure, he had younger cousins, but he was fragile in a way they weren’t, according to Bulda. He was the squishy human that needed protection from silly things like wolves and fire. And trees.

He had half a mind to argue with her, but the rough bristles running harshly between sap and hair strands made him reconsider. Knowing when to throw in the towel and accept his impending punishment was a skill he learned early on while living with the trolls. It was easy to tell when his mother was fuming. Her steps got thumpier and her soft smile hardened into a thin line. Her hands, which were usually so gentle with him, lost their careful aura. A part of him liked these moments. He didn’t enjoy his mother’s bubbling anger, but he did enjoy the liberation of feeling normal. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the other children returning from the daily hunting trip with their fathers. When they caught wind of his predicament, they snickered. He knew they would tease him endlessly about it later. He didn’t care. In fact, he reveled in it. 

Normal troll kids go through humiliating punishments like having to sit in their mothers’ laps as she painstakingly picks out branches and leaves from their sticky hair. In these moments, he wasn’t fragile. In these moments, he was just a foolish child facing the consequences of his actions.

Bulda caught wind of his upturned lips and bopped him lightly on the head with the brush. It made him wince, but he knew she was holding back. The human-friendly gloves were returning, much to his dismay.

“Stop smiling. I _will_ throw you out if you keep acting like this.”

He knew she didn’t mean it. A younger, more fragile Kristoff would have believed her. He would have cried apology after apology at her feet if it meant he didn’t have to survive in the wild on his own again. But now, he knew better. He knew in the way her eyes crinkled fondly at his mere presence that she would never act on her bluff. She was too attached to the wild boy for her own good.

She would never purposely hurt him, nor would she let anything else hurt him, but in these moments, he wondered what it would be like if she completely let go. She could cast him out of the clan with a snap of her fingers and he and Sven would be alone again. They would have to eat wild berries and sleep in the nipping cold of winter. There would be no family and no protection. He would be alone again. 

Bulda took care of him out of the kindness of her heart, and yet he threw it back in her face by getting into trouble. He claimed he didn’t want protection, but the thought of being on his own again made rocks settle in the pit of his stomach.

He tilted his head back to peak at Bulda’s face. She was still frowning. She paused her work on a particularly nasty section to tilt his head forward again. She resumed her work without a word.

“I’m sorry.” Kristoff supplied. 

“Whatever are you sorry for?” Bulda asked innocently. It wasn’t an exoneration, it was a test. He swallowed down the lump in his throat. 

“I climbed the big tree even though you told me not to.”

“And you fell, just like I said you would.”

A spike of anger and betrayal cut through Kristoff’s body. The guilt of being a bad child melted away with the implication of his uselessness.

“It’s not my fault! I almost got to the top before a branch broke!”

“And that’s exactly why I told you not to climb it! The limbs are unstable! Many troll children have fallen from that same tree!”

“But does anyone stop them from trying?! Does anyone stop them from falling? No! It’s just me! It’s always just me! You all think I’m a squishy little baby that needs protection. Well, I climbed the tree! I fell! I’m fine!”

“But what if you weren’t fine? I would never forgive myself.”

Bulda went quiet and gently sat the brush down in the dirt. She turned Kristoff around to face her. Her eyes looked sad.

“Kristoff. I know you hate being babied. And I’m sorry for making you feel small. You have to realize, though, you have limitations we don’t have, just like we have limitations you don’t have.” She squeezed his arm and he could almost feel the love and fear trickling into his body. “The rock children don’t have bones that break.”

Kristoff didn’t know what to say to that. How do you respond to a truth you’ve always known? The trolls had their reasons for being protective. If a rock child was taken in by a human kingdom, the child would have different limitations than a human child. He understood the circumstances, but the unfairness always festered inside at every exclusion he faced.

“I wish I had a sibling,” Kristoff admitted. “I wish there was someone else who could be babied.”

“I know, hun.”

“I could protect them. I could show them human things!” His voice rose, as if he had to convince himself he was capable. He flicked his eyes to his mother’s and dropped his voice to a whisper. “Troll things are nice, but I feel lonely sometimes.”

Bulda pulled him close to her chest. Mothers are supposed to be soft, he’d once read. Mothers have breasts for feeding, smooth hands for wiping tears, and lullaby-like voices for singing tired children to sleep.

“Would you like me to go to Arendelle to steal a child? That can be arranged.” He giggled at her rough voice and didn’t care if she was joking or not. Despite being a rock herself, this woman would move mountains for him. He snuggled into her chest and rested his head on her stone shoulder. Her eyes crinkled as she pulled him closer. She ran a hand through his sticky hair and Kristoff winced when it snagged.

“I’ll try my best to let you have more freedom,” Bulda finally spoke, “However, you have to promise to be more careful. Trolls don’t have hearts, but I think you still manage to give me an attack everyday.” She wriggled her hand free of the sap and patted his hair. Kristoff just nodded into her chest.

“You’re so, so, loved, Kristoff. Just...remember that the next time we go too hard on you. Stand up for yourself, but don’t resent the fact that we want you safe. You’ll always be my baby boy. No matter how much of a burly, mountain man you grow into.”

“Okay,” Kristoff smiled. A tear ran down his cheek and his mother wiped it away with a rough handkerchief she always kept on hand for his runny, human nose. She sung a human song she heard from the ice-harvesters and placed a bumpy kiss on his temple. Trolls may not have body heat like humans, but Kristoff always felt warm and safe in the arms of his mother. Maybe a little protection isn’t the worst thing in the world, he decided.


End file.
